


A Case Closed

by AHumanFemale, Robin Hood (kjack89)



Series: Double Jeopardy (Professor Barba) [4]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Professors, Developing Relationship, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 08:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14421048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHumanFemale/pseuds/AHumanFemale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: “I’ll get it worked out and text you details when I’ve got them, but in the meantime stay safe,” he said and Rafael was reminded again at Sonny’s anger the evening before.  At being pushed away, at being lied to — because surely that’s what Rafael was doing rather than admitting his fear. “You don’t have classes on Saturday and I’m fairly certain that paper grading and moot court prep can wait one day. So please, stay here. Just… don’t look at my DVR, I want you to like me when I get home.”Rafael barked out a laugh.“Don’t tell me,” he said, “Real Housewives?”“Worse. Cooking shows. Not even the good ones.”





	A Case Closed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who's stuck with this series. It's been a lot of fun to reimagine Barba in a role so similar and so different from what we've seen on the show.
> 
> RH would especially like to thank the Fight Garden for their support, and, of course, AHF for being the best writing partner a girl could ask for. You make everything I do infinitely better, and I'd be absolutely lost without you in my life.
> 
> AHF on the other hand is continually baffled that RH agrees to work with me and get my messy hands all over your work.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!
> 
> xoxo, RH and AHF.

Rafael woke with a groan.

This time less from the inconvenience of another early morning than it was from the burn of stiffness in every muscle he had, some known and some that had previously been a mystery before the best sex of his life had set them to singing an aching rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus. Carisi has managed to find every spot he had, had created a few more, and it had been far too long since Rafael had fallen into bed with someone like the detective.

 _Sonny_ , he corrected internally. If he spent the night he was going to have to get used to calling him Sonny. And speaking of whom...

The bed was empty.

He abhorred the small voice in the back of his mind that whined an objection but it was for nothing, brain finally waking enough to smell food in the air and to hear the crackle of something fatty in a pan. By the time he registered the smell of something better — something deep, dark, and caffeinated — he had already slipped out of bed, looking for his clothing wherever they’d managed to toss it the night before.

When he’d visited the en suite bathroom and found his pants — he’d been forced to leave them crumpled on the floor despite the pleat, although it wasn’t _forced_ so much as it was _couldn’t be bothered_ — it was to the humbling realization that he was still sans-shirt. Because Carisi, _Sonny_ , had ripped his own off of him. The buttons were probably still scattered around his office floor, which was a thought far more arousing than it had any right to be.  

Luckily, Rafael believed in turnabout being fair play.

Three minutes later he waltzed out of Sonny’s closet and into the kitchen clad in fabric much tighter than planned, and found Sonny cooking. Moving bacon with a fork in the pan, checking the temperature of the oven. All without looking up, which largely negated the intention with which Rafael’d come in. With hardly a glance in his direction he pushed Rafael a cup of coffee and offered a bright, “Good morning!”

Rafael scowled but took the coffee.  

“Morning,” he offered and brought the mug up to his lips — a plain white porcelain number with the Constitution printed unceremoniously on the side — only to watch his lover flip over a few strips of bacon and reach into the refrigerator for the eggs. “Don’t tell me you’re a morning person.”

“Eh,” Sonny answered nonchalantly and turned on another burner, “Depends on the morning, I guess.”

The man was oblivious.

“And this morning?” Rafael asked after taking another long drink from the mug. He felt synapses flickering to life with every second the coffee spent in his body. It made it all that much easier to enjoy the moment once Sonny finally looked in his direction.

“This morning I—”

 _There it is_ , he thought as Sonny dropped the egg in his hand to the floor.

The detective’s eyes were locked on him in an instant, traveling over the wealth of material Rafael had given him to work with. Starting first at the cotton tight across his shoulders, clinging to the muscle in his arms. He might have succumbed to self-consciousness at the way it was even tighter across his middle had Sonny’s eyes not dilated at first sight. It was only after long, yearning gazes at Rafael’s midriff that the man finally looked up a little higher at the white lettering across his chest on dark maroon fabric.

_Fordham._

“You were saying?” Rafael teased and watched a clever pink tongue dart out to wet full pink lips. “What about this morning?”

Sonny didn’t answer, only let the spatula fall to the floor next to the ruined egg to cross the space between them. Cupping Rafael’s face between both his hands and kissing him like his life depended on it, forcing Rafael to blindly shove his coffee mug onto the counter to as not to have it shatter between them. In moments Sonny’s hands started to wander and Rafael arched into it, not so much welcoming as he was demanding of the younger man’s touch.

“What about breakfast?” he gasped when Sonny tripped one, then two, sure fingers up his length.  

“Later,” Sonny said breathlessly, at least reaching over to turn off the burners before walking Rafael backwards. “I got better things to do.”

Rafael smirked into the kiss.

He couldn’t agree more.

* * *

 

“Okay, I have to go.”

Rafael’s answer was little more than a grunt, punctuated with eyes he couldn’t bother to keep open longer than a few seconds.  

“No, I mean it this time.”

 _Sure you do_ , Rafael thought but the words never actually formed. _You meant it thirty minutes ago, too._

This time he was dressed, at least, Rafael allowed as the man in question plucked a bright gold shield from the top of his dresser. It had taken him an extra fifteen minutes to clean up the kitchen - burnt bacon went into the trash, lemon poppyseed muffins just behind because the mixture had turned in the amount of time it had taken to get them both off again. He mopped up the fragments of an egg gone before its time, sanitizing the floor with something strong to kill off the bacteria. Rafael had listened to all of it from where he still lay on Sonny’s bed, unwilling to move a muscle.

Sonny stopped his rush and Rafael didn’t even have to look up to realize that the man was staring again. Probably because he was still naked, probably because he had yet to clean up because that involved movement. The afterglow had settled heavy in his blood and he had no intention of interrupting it in the name of decency.  

A fact the other man likely loved and cursed in that moment. He’d find a reason to get close again soon. Judging by his breathing it would be in three, two—

“Fuck,” Sonny said and suddenly there was a weight on the side of the bed where he sat and leaned over to kiss Rafael soundly. “God, you look so good like this.”

“You have to go,” Rafael reminded him but kissed him back, too tired to arch into the other man no matter how he wanted to. “Besides, you’re not the only one being kept from going into work.”

Not that Rafael had any intention of heading into Columbia in the near future, given the languid way he was sprawled across the bed, but Sonny didn’t need to know that.

But instead of pointing that out, Sonny froze. “You’re planning on going into the office today?”

Rafael arched an eyebrow at his sudden shift in tone. “Yes,” he said. “The fascinating world of paper grading and moot court preparations doesn’t stop just because of some death threats.”

Sonny’s expression tightened. “I’d really prefer if you didn’t go into work today.”

“And I’d really prefer if _you_ didn’t go into work today, but you’re the one insisting on rushing off,” Rafael said, trying to lighten the mood, and he leaned in and kissed Sonny lightly before asking, “Or is that what this is about? You trying to get me to ask you to stay?”

“No, I really have to go,” Sonny said, still too serious for Rafael’s liking. “I have to get in and arrange for your security detail.”

 _That_ made the smile disappear from Rafael’s face. “My what?”

“Security,” Sonny repeated. “In case Pryor decides to put his fists — or worse — where his camera is.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “You and I both know he’s just a sniveling little shit who’s used to getting his way.”

A smile quirked at the corners of Sonny’s mouth, but it was fleeting. “We do know that, but I’m not about to take chances. Not when—” He broke off and cleared his throat. “Not when there’s so much at stake.”

And wasn’t that a loaded statement if ever Rafael had heard one. He could mean the case, he could mean Rafael. He could mean them. But before he could prop himself up and form some sort of question on the matter Sonny had given him another kiss, running long fingers through the graying hairs at Rafael’s temple.  

“I’ll get it worked out and text you details when I’ve got them, but in the meantime stay safe,” he said and Rafael was reminded again at Sonny’s anger the evening before.  At being pushed away, at being lied to — because surely that’s what Rafael was doing rather than admitting his fear. “You don’t have classes on Saturday and I’m fairly certain that paper grading and moot court prep can wait one day. So please, stay here. Just… don’t look at my DVR, I want you to like me when I get home.”

Rafael barked out a laugh.  

“Don’t tell me,” he said, “Real Housewives?”

“Worse. Cooking shows. Not even the good ones.”

He chuckled and trailed a finger up the back of Sonny’s arm, impeded by the thick wool coat in the way. “Fine. I’ll stay away from the DVR. I’ll also forget to ask when you memorized my class schedule.”

Sonny grinned.

“Deal.” He was given one more kiss, this one slow and lingering, before Sonny pulled away again and stood. “Behave yourself, Rafael.I’ll see you for lunch, maybe, if I can sneak away.”

“Go. I’ll see you later,” he said and watched as Sonny beamed before leaving the room. Moments later he heard the front door open and close, signaling his lover’s departure. Eventually he’d have to get up and throw the deadbolt into place if for no other reason than he was sure Sonny would want him to. The fact that he was willing to do that before showering or another attempt at coffee was testament to something far more dangerous than a stray psychopath with a camera.

On the nightstand his phone buzzed. Sonny, because of course it was.

_I forgot to tell you to have a good day. So…have a good day._

Warmth. All he felt was warmth.  

At least until it buzzed again and another message appeared.

_And lock the door._

He rolled his eyes — before getting up and locking the door, sauntering back through Sonny’s apartment naked on his way to the shower.  

It’s possible he was a man in trouble and it had nothing to do with Daniel Pryor.

* * *

 

Rafael had every intention of staying in Sonny’s apartment, of taking the day to relax or, more accurately, snoop through Sonny’s apartment to find ample ammunition with which to mock the detective when he returned. But by the time he’d psychoanalyzed every show on Sonny’s DVR — Top Chef he approved of; Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, not so much, to say nothing of the three entire _seasons_ of Say Yes to the Dress that he’d found in the dark recesses of Sonny’s watch history on Hulu — as well as a full scan of the detective’s crammed bookshelves — their tastes surprisingly overlapped, and well beyond just the law school books and reviews — Rafael was out of his mind with boredom.

And besides, obedience had never exactly been Rafael’s forte, as several district attorneys, New York Supreme Court judges and one increasingly exasperated law school dean could attest.

He didn’t plan to stay at his office long, just dropping by to grab a few papers to work on while waiting for Sonny to get back to his, but Bayard Ellis had left a new article on recidivism for sex crimes that he thought Rafael might find interesting on his desk and one thing led to another and before he knew it, over an hour had passed, and Rafael felt a pang of something that might have been guilt.

In which case, he really was a man in trouble.

He sighed, and took his feet off his desk before sitting up and stretching, making a rueful expression at the time on the clock as he gathered together the papers he had ostensibly come to collect in the first place. He had just unceremoniously shoved a stack of papers into his briefcase when he heard a cold, metallic _click_ , a sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

A sound that he recognized with icy fear, low in his gut.

The sound of a gun being cocked.

Rafael was definitely in trouble.

And this time, it had everything to do with Daniel Pryor.

He forced himself to stay calm as he looked up, unsurprised to see Pryor standing there, unsurprised even to see the Sig in his hand, aimed directly at Rafael’s head. “Mr. Pryor,” he said, slowly holding his hands up in a completely instinctual — and completely useless — defensive gesture. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I figured you’d be by eventually,” Pryor said casually, stepping slowly into Rafael’s office, the gun not wavering. “Since you didn’t go home last night.”

He said it casually, but the realization that Pryor had been watching his apartment — that Sonny had been right — made Rafael’s blood run cold.

As did the weapon still aimed at him, but Rafael was trying very hard to ignore that.

“Well, I was, uh, otherwise detained,” Rafael said, pitching his voice to match Pryor’s tone. “But how delightful of you to make the time to come all the way out here just to see me.”

“To kill you,” Pryor corrected, with a small, horrible smile. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get my little messages. I know you didn’t tell your detective about them — he seemed so very upset when I saw him yesterday, but no worries.” Pryor shrugged languidly. “I’ll deal with him soon enough.”

Rafael’s heart seemed to shudder in his chest. “Det. Carisi has nothing to do with this,” he said, before throwing caution to the wind and adding, “Nor, for that matter, do I.”

Pryor’s eyes flashed. “You think you had nothing to do with this?” he snapped, losing his cool demeanor for the first time.

“Fairly certain I didn’t hold a gun to your head and make you rape those women,” Rafael said coldly.

For a moment, Pryor still looked furious, but then he forced a smile. “And it’s not my fault that certain women feel slighted after I don’t call them the next day,” he said dismissively.

Rafael’s lip curled. “Yes,” he said, “I imagine I’d feel slighted too if you held me down by my throat and raped me repeatedly. Fortunately or unfortunately as the case may be, I’m not your type, and everything you do is for your own fucked up gratification, so why are you here?”

Pryor’s smile sharpened. “What, you think I won’t get any gratification from splattering your brains across the walls?” He leaned in, eyes gleaming. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about for weeks.”

Rafael swallowed, hard. “Holding women down and forcing yourself upon them isn’t doing it for you anymore?” he spat, with all the bluster he could manage. “Now it takes fantasizing about murdering middle-aged college professors to get you off?”

“Oh, but Rafael, as you said during your closing argument when you tried to send me to jail, it’s not about sex, or getting off — it’s about power.”

“You memorized my closing argument?” Rafael asked, impressed despite himself.

Pryor ignored him. “And from where I’m standing, I’ve got all the power in the world.” He gestured upward with the gun. “Now stand up.”

Rafael did as he ordered, standing slowly, his hands still up and his mind working overtime, trying to figure out some way out of this.

At the moment, he was drawing a blank.

“Ok,” he said slowly, stalling for time, “so you’ve got the power. Congratulations. But I still don’t understand why you’ve decided to take your sociopathic tendencies out on me — and on Det. Carisi. I’m not prosecuting your case, and Det. Carisi is one of what I can only assume is a whole platoon at this point of cops who would love to see you behind bars.”

Pryor laughed. “Well, you’re probably not wrong about that,” he agreed, as Rafael tried desperately to think of who he walked past on his way into the office.

Of who might hear him scream.

But it was a Saturday, and it wasn’t unusual for the place to be mostly deserted on a Saturday, a fact Rafael usually took advantage of when catching up on grading or other paperwork.

“But more than just wanting to put me behind bars, I picked you and your detective because you just wouldn’t give up, would you?” Pryor sounded almost contemplative as he said it, and Rafael blinked as he refocused on him, and on the gun in his hand. Maybe he could—

No. Rafael had never once won a fight with his fists, only with his mouth, and he didn’t think now would be the best time to try to prove himself wrong.

“I am unfortunately dedicated in that way,” Rafael said, playing along, buying time. “But why kill me?”

Pryor grinned. “Like you said — gratification. Like finally killing that annoying bug that’s been flying around.”

He raised the gun, and Rafael gulped. “Ok, fine,” he rasped, his mouth dry as he stared down the metal barrel not even a foot from his head. “But why Det. Carisi?”

“At first it was just because he brought you back in,” Pryor said casually. “I overheard one of his coworkers talking about him getting you to consult when I was at the precinct. But then I did some investigating of my own, and well…” His grin widened. “The gratification of killing you is nothing compared to the gratification of you dying with the knowledge that there’s nothing you could do to save him — to save any of them.”

The breath caught in Rafael’s throat, and even though he had imagined this scenario before, had dreamt in his darker moments of how he would look death in the face and take it straight-backed and proud, his voice broke as he rasped, “Please don’t — don’t do this.”

“Do what?” Pryor asked coldly. “Kill you — or kill your boyfriend?”

Rafael shook as Pryor took a step closer, and his eyes closed when he felt the metal of the gun against his forehead. “I’d say both, but if I had to choose — him. Don’t kill him.” His breath came out in spurts that sounded too much like sobs to his own ears. “Please. I’ll do — I’ll do anything. I’ll talk to the DA, I’ll get the older cases thrown out so they can’t be used. You’re still looking at time, there’s nothing I can do about that, but it’ll be five, maybe ten years max, but if you kill a cop, you’re going to jail for life.”

“It’s too late for that,” Pryor told him. Simply, without emotion. Pure fact, and Rafael felt it in his bones.

It was too late.

There was nothing he could do.

“But I’ll think about it,” Pryor added, and Rafael shuddered when he continued, “It’s just a shame that you won’t be around to see what I decide to do. Goodbye, Counselor.”

BANG.

Rafael’s heart stopped.

They said — the amorphous _they_ , whoever that was, and Rafael couldn’t help but find it slightly ironic that he was thinking about it now — that dying was painless, and Rafael was surprised to find it was true. He didn’t feel pain. He didn’t feel anything as he crashed to the floor, the roar of silence ringing in his ears as he stared up at the ceiling of his office and marveled at the fact that the water stain on the ceiling was going to be the last thing he saw.

He wished the last thing he saw had been Sonny.

And then, just like that, Sonny’s face swam into view above him. He might have mused about heaven had it not been for the look of terror on the man’s face.

“Oh my God, Rafael—” Sonny pulled him upright, Sonny cradled him to his chest, one hand cupping his cheek, holding him steady as the other roamed down his chest, his sides — checking him for injuries, Rafael realized dully, in the small part of his mind that appeared to still be working. “Rafael, you’re ok. You’re ok, thank God, you’re ok.”

Then Sonny was kissing him, pressing desperate kisses to his mouth, to his cheeks, to his forehead, his mercifully still intact forehead, and Rafael blinked slowly. “Pryor—” he croaked, and Sonny’s face hardened.

“I got him,” he said, simply. “Shot him in the shoulder.”

Rafael realized, rather belatedly, that Pryor was whimpering pitifully from wherever he lay, and he shook his head slowly before refocusing on Sonny, on the man holding so tightly that it might have hurt, if Rafael was capable of feeling anything at all. “You’re wet,” he said instead, stupidly. “Oh, God, am I bleeding on you?”

He started to pull away, but Sonny shook his head. “It’s not — you’re not bleeding,” he said, pulling him closer. “You’re fine, Rafael, you’re fine. It’s coffee, but that’s — that’s not important right now.”

“Coffee’s always important,” Rafael told him, his voice cracking, and he buried his face against Sonny’s chest, against the warm wetness that had seeped through the fabric of the detective’s shirt. He could smell the coffee now, and Sonny’s aftershave, as well as feel the racing heartbeat in Sonny’s chest. “I thought — I thought I was dead.”

“Never,” Sonny told him, fiercely, and Rafael could feel wetness on Sonny’s cheek where it was pressed against his head that he knew had nothing to do with the coffee on his shirt. “Never. Not while I’m here.”

There were a million logical fallacies in that statement, but Rafael couldn’t find it in him to argue any of them, just closing his eyes and letting Sonny hold him on the floor of his office.

He was fine.

He was with Sonny.

He was safe.

And Pryor would never hurt anyone else again.

* * *

 

Two hours later, after Rafael had suffered the indignity of being checked out by the paramedics and asked the same twenty questions by about a dozen different officers, all while draped in a goddamn shock blanket and sitting in the back of an ambulance, Sonny finally emerged from the building. His suit jacket was gone, but his gun was back in its holster, which was all Rafael needed to see to know that IAB wouldn’t be pursuing this case any further.

It had been a good shoot.

Rafael wasn’t entirely sure that he had fully appreciated what that meant until now.

Sonny stopped in front of him, reaching out to grab both his hands in his own. “So,” Rafael said, slowly, though he didn’t know what to say next.

“So,” Sonny echoed, one eyebrow quirking upward, and Rafael managed a small, tired smile.

“So what was with the coffee?”

“Huh?” For a moment, Sonny looked confused, then his expression evened out and he laughed lightly. “Oh, uh, I was bringing you coffee.”

Rafael looked exaggeratedly around him. “And where is it?”

“I dropped it,” Sonny said, sounding grim, and a little exhausted. “When I heard Pryor’s voice coming out of your office.”

Rafael squeezed his hands. “For the record, Detective,” he said quietly, “I’m very glad that you did. Keep in mind, of course, that this will be the only time that I’m glad you wasted my coffee.”

Sonny laughed again, and leaned in to kiss him lightly. “And you should keep in mind that this the only time that I hopefully ever have to lecture you about going out when there’s a known sociopath who wants to kill you on the loose.”

Rafael winced. “Sorry,” he said. “Speaking of, how did you know that I was at my office?”

“I asked my doorman to text me if you somehow found your way wandering outside of my apartment,” Sonny said with a shrug.

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “You paid your doorman to spy on me?”

“Of course not,” Sonny said, sounding insulted. “Joey’s an old friend. He did it for free. Besides which—” He lowered his voice and kissed Rafael’s forehead, and Rafael’s eyes closed when he realized Sonny was kissing the exact spot Pryor had only hours previously held a gun to. “—I don’t think you’re complaining.”

“I’m not,” Rafael assured him, tilting his head up to again capture Sonny’s lips with his own. “I am complaining about the lack of coffee since then, however. You should really do something about that.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “Luckily for you, I can actually do something about that. You and I are free to go — CSU is finishing up inside, but Pryor’s gonna be going to jail for a long time.”

Rafael nodded slowly before smiling again. “Well, that’s a relief,” he said. “Though I hope this doesn’t mean that you’ll stop coming around now that the threat’s passed and the case is more or less closed.”

His tone was clearly teasing, and Sonny rolled his eyes again accordingly, even though he couldn’t help but smile, just a little. “Is now really the time for the ‘what are we’ conversation?” he asked, more than slightly exasperated, though he also snuck another kiss, longer and slower this time. “Besides, I’m hoping this actually means I’ll be coming around a lot more.”

Rafael’s smile widened. “Good,” he said, resting his hands on Sonny’s hips. “Because I could get used to this.”

Sonny cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really?” he asked dryly. “What part of this could you possibly get used to? The part where I bring you coffee or the part where you almost get yourself killed?”

“I was thinking more the part where we have mindblowing sex fairly regularly, and drinks and meals in between,” Rafael said casually, unwilling to let himself get goaded into thinking about how closely this all could have ended.

There’d be time enough for that later.

He kissed Sonny once more before adding, “My hot detective boyfriend bringing me coffee is just an added perk.”

Sonny laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “I think I could get used to that too.”

“Good,” Rafael said decisively, standing up and letting the stupid shock blanket fall off his shoulders. “So which do you want to start with: sex, drinks or dinner?”

He and Sonny looked at each other for a moment before blurting in unison, “Drinks.”

“Come on,” Rafael said, lacing his fingers with Sonny’s. “I know a place.”

“Is that a line, Professor?” Sonny asked with a laugh, letting Rafael tug him away from the still-active crime scene.

“That depends,” Rafael said, gratified when Sonny put his arm around Rafael’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Is it working?”

Sonny laughed and kissed Rafael’s forehead once more. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. It is.” They walked in silence for a moment before Sonny nudged him. “So, uh, you think I’m hot, huh?”

Rafael rolled his eyes and glared up at him. “Is that really what you got out of this whole thing?”

“No,” Sonny said, with a grin just this side of a smirk. “I also got you.”

Part of Rafael wanted desperately to mock Sonny for that, but the larger part of him remembered Sonny holding him on the floor of his office, and he couldn’t find it in himself to do more than lean in and kiss Sonny. “Yeah,” he said. “You did.”


End file.
